


Remembering Apricity: A "Five Brothers" AU

by morgaf



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Brotherly Angst, Brotherly Bonding, Brotherly Love, Childhood Trauma, Family Issues, Family Secrets, Fluff and Angst, Implied Relationships, POV Alternating, Past Character Death, Post-War, Trauma, War, phil's a nervous dad, tommy exile angst is the best kind of angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:41:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28081116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morgaf/pseuds/morgaf
Summary: "Remembering Apricity" follows the story between the four brothers under Philza's wing. The "Five Brothers" AU is one where all is the same, except both Dream and Tubbo are Philza's sons, as well. Thus making dynamics following the exile of Tommy much more brutal.Dream and Wilbur are both biological sons of Philza, with Technoblade being adopted at a young age. The three grew up together. After the destruction of L'Manburg, and Wilbur's death, Philza adopts two young, traumatized boys to give them peace after this war.Follow the family as they go through their own turmoil and trauma, making difficult decisions that impacts both their relationships, and the country, itself.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 39





	1. A Reconnection

**Author's Note:**

> Any and all criticism towards my writing and story-telling process is extremely helpful and taken into consideration.  
> If you like the read, don't hesitate to leave a kudos! It keeps my motivation steady, and pushes me to make more content. Enjoy the read!

A hot mug is wrapped around the man’s hands as he fiddles with the handle of it, eyes glued onto the scruffy, frostbitten boy sitting on the other end of the table.  
The two sat in a silence, with nothing but the harsh whistling of the wind outside making a sound. Snow and ice filled the windows surrounding them. The boy periodically took small sips from his mug, staring at his feet uncomfortably. The position almost looked like a dog with their tail between their legs.  
“Run that past me again.” Technoblade spoke, vision unwavering from the boy.

The sudden voice made him jolt his head upwards in surprise, clearly startled out of his thoughts. The man sitting across from him made no reaction to this, only taking a long, slow drag from his steaming mug.  
“I..” Tommy started, looking down into the contents of his own mug. “Damn it, Techno, I don’t want to say it again!”  
Earning no remorse from the pink-haired man, he sighed.

“Dream convinced Tubbo to exile me.” Tommy spoke, his voice pained. “I.. Listen, I know I fucked up, alright? I’ve heard enough of it. From Dream, from Fundy, hell, from my best friend. I just- you know..” The grip on his mug tightened, and his brother watched as he struggled to keep his voice. He continued, “They were my brothers, they were family! Not just Tubbo, but Dream, too! And I- And I know Dream and I have had our fights. But he didn’t- I didn’t expect him to just.. You know?”

Surprisingly, Technoblade had caught a lot of what his brother had said, despite how messy and emotional his explanation was. The boy broke his gaze from his mug, looking up towards the man, searching for any sympathy or understanding in his expression.

“Techno, please. I can’t just- I don’t.. I can’t be alone again.”

The silence that followed his brother’s outburst was sickeningly loud. A small, tiny part of the man crumbled at that sentence. The childish piece of him pained seeing such a lively, headstrong kid be in such a dark space. Tommy was far too young to have his first grace with real desperation and heartbreak.  
The wind continued to violently surround the warm, wooden house. Technoblade suddenly stood up from his chair, uncaring of Tommy’s startled response, as he placed his empty mug into a small sink. Though he knew his expression seemed cold, inside his head, his thoughts were whirring. Turning around, the man leaned back against the countertop, crossing his arms comfortably as he studied the drained, helpless boy.

Taking a deep breath, he sighed, gaining the attention of the disheveled teen.

  
“Dream didn’t suddenly become this way when Phil adopted you two.” Technoblade started, watching the boy intently. “Him and I were always reckless and impulsive. Defying things we shouldn’t have defied, causing problems we shouldn’t have caused, we loved the mayhem. Definitely kept the old man on his toes, too.” He said fondly, watching his brother find his first small grin.

“When we grew up, that attitude never really changed. We continued causing problems, but we found ways to solve them on our own. The only one who really changed-”  
At this point, Technoblade found he had paused. It wasn’t intentionally, it was a completely unconscious action. Furrowing his brows, he looked at Tommy’s curious, eager expression. Taking a deep breath, he continued once more, “The only one who really changed was Wilbur.”

Immediately, the tone in the small room shifted. The boy unwrapped himself from his curled up position in the chair, his expression changing to a sad longing, as his lips pinched tightly together. Realizing this, the elder brother looked away, turning to face the window with a light frown. As he watched the chaotic storm outside, he continued, “Wilbur went from a chaotic kid to the most responsible of the three of us.  
“He was the one patching up Dream and I after our fights when Phil wasn’t around. He was constantly scolding us for being so careless, and following us into the woods so we wouldn’t get lost. Phil had deemed him the mother of the family, which we all teased him for.”

At this point, Technoblade realized he had completely spaced out, finding a small grin on his lips. Furrowing his brows, the man shook his head lightly, turning around to face Tommy. He found the boy staring at him with wide eyes, filled with both sadness and interest towards the story. Raising an eyebrow towards his brother’s expression, the man fixed his posture, an amused smirk flashing on his face.  
“He was such a soft kid. A real pushover at some points, too. Dream and I had always imagined ourselves fighting alongside armies when we grew up, while Wilbur stayed home with a loving wife and kids.”

Suddenly, the man’s expression darkened as he paused. Tommy’s lighthearted investment into the story had changed as the feeling surrounding his brother’s voice grew dim.  
“So imagine our surprise,” Technoblade said, voice quiet, “when he became our biggest threat.”

The teen’s eyes widened in surprise as the man locked his gaze with his brother’s. He continued, “Not only our threat, but his own.  
“The little kid who wrapped our bloody scrapes, and cried when I stepped on a bug, was now building a country with him as the tyrant. He was building a country equivalent to a monopoly.” The man broke eye contact with his little brother, firmly staring at the floorboards. There was an anger behind his eyes as he spoke.

“Dream and I weren’t stagnant whenever this was happening, contrary to popular belief,” Technoblade scoffed, “We were conversing. Plotting. Not only amongst ourselves, but with Phil, too. I was questioning Dream’s decision to come to him for help in the first place, but I don’t think we would’ve come to the conclusion we did if we hadn’t.”  
Looking up, he uncrossed his arms, and his face visibly softened. Walking back over to the table, Technoblade leaned against a chair that sat close to his brother.

“Tommy, this.. This _family_ hasn’t been the same since Wilbur pushed that button.”  
  
The word “family” left Technoblade’s mouth with soft resent. It wasn’t one he used lightly, which, he expects, is why Tommy reacted with surprise.  
“I know..” His brother mumbled quietly, earning the raise of an eyebrow. There was a tone of guilt that came from his words, which took Technoblade by surprise.

“No, I don’t think you do.” He challenged, raising his voice a tad. “I know you and Dream had your differences, and, to be fair, it’s not like he was the most agreeable person. But before this war, he was at least loyal to who he was raised with.  
“No matter what Wilbur and I said or did, Dream would always find it somewhere within himself to forgive us. It was a trait Phil idolized him for. But, after Wilbur’s-”

To his surprise, the older brother’s throat tightened. Finding focus on Tommy’s face, he suddenly took notice of the tears beginning to well in not only his younger brother’s eyes, but his own. They both knew exactly where this was going.  
Scrunching his nose in frustration of his decision, Technoblade hastily attempted to calm himself, messily rubbing the tears out of his eyes.  
“After-” Another deep breath, “After his _departure_ , Dream never forgave the people involved. He didn’t blame himself, he blamed me. And, to be fair, I blamed him, too.  
“We were both angry. No, forget angry, we were furious at each other, which obviously didn’t help Phil in the slightest.” He let out a dry chuckle, “And the crazy old man decided now was the perfect time to adopt two scruffy, loud, traumatized kids.”

Technoblade regained his composure, purposefully looking away from Tommy as he heard the boy let out a quiet, poorly concealed sniffle.  
“Dream was livid. That’s why he hated you, and that’s why he wanted you gone, Tommy.” The brother spoke, “It’s true you’ve done things that.. Weren’t the brightest decisions. But that makes you just as much of a teenager as we were.”

Running a hand through his thin, pink hair, the man turned to face his brother. He was met with a face with tear streaks and red cheeks. And, to both of their surprise, Technoblade let out a soft smile.  
“Wilbur needed help, and we didn’t realize until it was too late. Now, it looks like Dream is going to fall down that same rabbit hole, and I don’t intend on making the same mistake.”

It took a second for this to truly settle into Tommy’s head, but once he understood, Technoblade watched as a toothy, hopeful smile appeared on his face. It was one that he hadn’t seen in a long, long time, he had realized.  
  
  
“You’re going to help?”  
  


“Yeah, Tommy, I’ll help.”  
  



	2. A Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream and George venture out beyond the server's walls to find his estranged brother, Technoblade. They come in search of help following their brother's, Tommy's, exile.  
> Little do the two men know that the elder brother has a plan of his own, leading to some turmoil on what he should do next.

Snow crunched under their boots as the icy air whipped around the pair, stinging like blades against the minimal parts where their skin was shown. They were heavily layered and bound, with the taller, frontmost man continuously checking behind him to keep the other in his view. Violent winds made their walks a chore as they fought against its surprising power.  
“How close are we?” The taller man questioned, voice raised to speak over the roaring weather surrounding them.  
  
The shorter brunette, layered with a series of blue and green coats and gloves, stifled around in his pocket before taking out a fresh, slightly torn map.  
Unrolling it, the man located the faint dots of their location, and the small, poorly drawn wooden house along the top left side. Placing his finger on it to focus, he looked up at his masked friend to respond, “Not too far! Head a little more to the left!”  
  
With a nod of understanding, George hastily rolled the paper back up, sticking it back into its place as they resumed their walking. The pair had been on this journey for a little over an hour, with their cheeks and noses glowing a bright red under their scarves. The brunette was mentally scolding himself for agreeing to partake on this venture as he attempted to keep up with his tall, blonde counterpart.  
  
Within a matter of minutes, the blonde man stopped within his tracks, startling his other half. As the shorter friend began to voice his frustrations, Dream walked around to the back of him, opening and tearing through his backpack before pulling out a long telescope.  
Frowning in confusion, George followed his point of view, before seeing exactly what the blonde was looking at; a dim, warm light within the hazy distance.  
  
“That’s it.” He said, whipping around to face the man excitedly. “That’s it! That has to be it!”  
Though he couldn’t see it, he could tell that Dream was smiling under his mask. The man brought the telescope back into the backpack, zipping it up messily before punching his friend’s shoulder in excitement.  
“It’s definitely it.” He voiced, cutting off George’s complaints, before quickly beginning to walk again, with much more speed and intent behind his stride.  
  
Grumbling behind him, the brunette jogged to catch up with his friend, as the two became closer and closer to the secluded cabin. It almost felt like angels were being sent from above whenever they finally managed to get to the front door. A wave of relief and excitement washed over the shorter man, and he watched as Dream pulled his thick, fuzzy hood off his head, revealing the blonde locks underneath it.  
Bringing up his gloved hand, he knocked harshly on the sturdy door.  
  
There was a sudden series of thumps that came from inside the house, causing a short confusion between the two impatient boys. This didn’t last long, however, as clicks of several locks rang through the inside of the door before being swung open.  
Finally. Warmth.  
  
The two were met with a man around the same height as Dream. His long, pink hair was pinned back sloppily into a bun, with piercing green eyes that appeared tired with bags. He wore navy blue clothing, padded with a cozy lining that made George jealous of his warmth. Alongside this, the man wore chunky snow boots that appeared weathered and well used.  
“Hey.” The man, Technoblade, greeted shortly as he leaned against the doorframe. The brunette watched as he scanned the two of them, eyes flickering between their pale faces and ice-covered clothing.  
  
“I assume you got my letter?” Dream questioned, crossing his arms comfortably, “I mean, you didn’t respond.”  
  
“Forgot.” His brother responded with a small, mischievous grin. The three sat in silence for a few seconds, before he continued, “Well, are you ‘gonna come in?”  
  
The pair, with a little too much excitement, bustled into the heated home.  
Inside, the cabin was decorated with warm tones and rustic appliances. A fire crackled in a fireplace across the room, which had a comfortable pair of chairs, alongside a matching couch, sitting in front of it. There were miniscule paintings scattered along the walls, alongside very small ferns and herbs that were placed in pots around the household. On the kitchen table laid a mug with dozens of maps and papers, which were clearly in the process of being renewed.  
  
“Take a seat anywhere.” Technoblade stated, watching the two as they began to unload their layers and backpacks, “Hot chocolate? Coffee?”  
George looked up at his friend, and watched as he comfortably untied the weathered ribbon on the back of his head. Pulling it loose, the man’s mask slipped off his face, and he watched as he took a deep breath of fresh air.  
“I think hot chocolates will do us good.” Dream said truthfully with a small, apathetic smile.  
  
As the man gave a polite nod and headed towards the stovetop, George shrugged off his heavily padded jacket, revealing a comfy light blue turtleneck. In curiosity, the brunette looked down at his hands, finding them cracked and dry, lightly tinted pink.  
“My hands are red, too.” Dream commented, making his friend jump at the sudden attention. The man then slipped around George, fixing himself comfortably on the couch. With instinct, he followed, and as he sank into the couch cushions, a sudden object took the man’s interest.  
  
There was an empty can of Fanta, still sizzling from the carbonation, sitting on a small table.  
  
The brunette frowned in thought. He never really took Technoblade to be a soda drinker, let alone such a tangy one. Looking over at Dream, he found his friend still entranced with the fire, so he lightly nudged his shoulder.  
  
“I didn’t know your brother drank soda now.” George whispered, gesturing to the can.  
He watched his friend stare at the fizzy drink for a couple of seconds, clearly pondering in his head, before giving a shrug in response. “I guess his taste buds changed.” The friend whispered back, giving a warm, relaxed smile before returning his gaze to the fireplace.  
In response, George gave a halfhearted grin, unconvinced. As the man began to sink into his thoughts, a sudden series of glass “ _clink_ ”s brought his focus back into the room, seeing an array of two colorful mugs sitting on the table in front of them.  
  
It was at this point that the brunette realized exactly how cold he was, as when he reached for the steaming glass, the warmth his hands were greeted with gave him chills. Looking up at the tall man, the pair responded with short, polite “thank you”s, before nestling back into the maroon couch.  
George took a large sip from his mug, uncaring that the sugary substance burnt his tongue, as he watched the pink-haired man sit comfortably in a cushioned armchair with a mug of his own.  
  
There was a long silence, with only the sounds of faint sipping and the fire crackling filling the small house. The walls were being abused by the harsh winds outside, where George could hear the faint whistling of the cold air. He inwardly groaned at the idea of having to go back into it soon.  
“So?” Technoblade said suddenly, breaking the peace, “Are you going to elaborate on your letter?”  
  
“Right.” Dream responded, shaking his head lightly, probably scolding himself for his forgetfulness. “Firstly, how much do you know about Tommy’s situation?”  
  
“Tommy’s situation?”  
  
“The exile.”  
  
“Oh.” The brother said, looking up from his mug to meet eyes with the blonde. “Basically, only what you described in the letter. It’s not like I get many casual visitors around here to hear the gossip from.”  
  
“That’s true.” Dream replied, giving a small, dry laugh. The brunette who sat beside him hopes he was the only one who realized how forced it was. “Tommy’s exile was necessary for not just my benefit, but for Tubbo’s, too. His recklessness around the server was a problem.”  
  
“How’s Tubbo doing, by the way?” Technoblade questioned, taking a sip from his drink, “I haven’t gotten a message from him for a couple of weeks now.”

“He’s doing alright, it looks like presidency is treating him well.”

The pink-haired man let out an audible scoff, earning startled reactions from the duo on the couch. He smirked darkly to himself, “I wouldn’t call exiling his brother ‘treating him well’.”

Uh oh.  
George raised his eyebrows, turning to his right to find Dream’s face in a cold expression. It wasn’t rare to see such a reaction from him nowadays; He’s been much easier to anger recently, and it doesn’t help that he tends to wear his emotion on his sleeve. Dream could care less about who knows if he’s mad, the brunette realized, which may be why so many people see him as intimidating.  
“Like I said,” The friend spoke sternly, “Tommy’s exile was mandatory for the server to thrive. The chaos he insued was always punished, but he never grew from it.  
“The kid would burn down a house, apologize-” Technoblade laughed, but his brother continued to talk over him, “- say he’s grown, then burn down three more the next day!”  
  
“Dream.” The man spoke, still chuckling, “He’s a kid. Remember the shit we pulled when we were his age?”  
  
“Yeah! I do!” Dream responded wildly, danger in his tone, “When we were sixteen, we were slaying _Withers_ , Techno! Now Tommy’s spawning them!”  
A dry, awestruck laugh left his brother’s lips, leaving the blonde to take a long sip from his mug, likely trying to calm himself down. The tension in the room grew, leaving George to shift uncomfortably in his seat. Bringing one knee up to his chest, he took a long gulp from his now lukewarm drink.  
  
After a short moment of silence, Dream continued, his tone calmer as he delicately sat his mug on the table. “I know you’ve had a soft spot for them. I get it, but you’ve always told me not to put my feelings first.”  
It was at this moment that Technoblade cocked an eyebrow, “This isn’t a matter of feelings.”  
  
“You’re right.” The brother cooed in response, leaning back into the couch as he propped his hands comfortably behind his head. “It’s a matter of _safety_. Not yours, not mine, not the server’s, but _Tommy’s_.”

The man cocked his head slightly as he sat in the armchair, implying his brother to continue explaining, as he brought his mug to his lips.  
  
“I know how we both feel about Wilbur’s death, Techno.”   
  
A stillness. George’s mouth widened slightly in shock, his head whipping to face his friend, who sat with a near cocky expression on his face.   
“ _Dream_.” The brunette spoke, his voice quiet and shaky with awe. The friend was met with a “not now” expression from the blonde, making him send a glare towards the confident man.   
  
“Now what exactly,” Technoblade started with a small quiver of anger, “Does our dead brother have to do with this?”   
“Tommy reminds me of him, to put it simply. They’re near copies of each other, not to mention the time they spent together.”   
  
“So? What are you suggesting with this?”   
  
“Tommy’s dangerous, just like he was.” Dream said firmly, eyes narrowing, “I don’t want him to end up in the same position as his brother.”   
  
It was this sentence that made Technoblade’s face soften in thought. The shorter man watched his eyes fall to the floorboards as he focused, clearly starting to see the logic within his brother’s reasoning. It seemed Dream had noticed it, too, as he continued, “I think he’s plotting something.”   
  
“What do you mean by that?” He responded after a brief silence, looking upwards.   
  
“It’s rare to see him nowadays.” The blonde explained, “Yeah, he’s exiled, and I know from witnesses that he hasn’t been seen within the server’s borders. But I’ve been seeing him at his tent less and less recently.”   
  
“And how do you know the witnesses aren’t lying?”   
  
“I don’t.” Dream responded truthfully, “But that doesn’t negate the fact that he would be planning something.”   
  
The brother let out a short laugh, but George isn’t exactly sure why. It was then that he noticed the man’s point of view was strangely placed. Curious, he turned to see what Technoblade was looking at, seeing nothing but a staircase to the second floor.   
“So what exactly do you want _me_ to do about your theory?” The man questioned, snapping George out of his thoughts.   
  
“I want an alliance with you again.”   
  
With another scoff as a response, Dream glared, “I’m serious, Techno. You’ve seen first hand what he’s capable of.”   
  
“You’re serious?” The brother questioned, standing up from his chair as he brought his empty mug towards the kitchen. “He’s a kid. If you need to stop him, just take away his PlayStation or something.”   
  
Dream huffed in frustration, standing up quickly as he followed his brother through the living room, causing George to do the same. “You of all people know that isn’t true.” He challenged, grabbing the man’s arm to turn him away from the sink. “He can be one of the biggest threats if we allow him lenience.”   
  
Technoblade looked down at the wrist his brother had tightly gripped, then looked back up, locking eyes with each other. There was a look of sudden realization that hit the man’s eyes, George realized. What was going through his head?   
After a long pause of staring, the pink-haired man let out a tired groan, shaking his head.   
  
“I wanted to retire.”   
  
“I wanted you to retire, too.” Dream loosened his grip on the man, “But I really need your help. And you know I don’t say stuff like that loosely.”   
  
There was a hesitation before his response.   
“Okay.” Technoblade said simply, “Okay, alright. I’ll help you with Tommy.”   
  
An excited, genuine smile settled on the tall blonde’s face. There was a flicker of near relaxation that came from it, as well, George recognized. It was one he hadn’t seen in such a long time that it almost felt foreign.   
“Thank you, Techno!” The brunette beamed, turning his attention from his friend to the tall man. “Your help seriously means a lot.”   
The pale, pink-haired brother had a pretty surprised expression to this, before giving George a friendly smile. “Anything for family.”   
  
The blonde gave a small nod in response, suddenly reaching his hand out in front of his brother. Technoblade stared at it for a quick second, before clapping his hand into the brother’s, making a powerful, empathetic handshake.   
“Anything for family.” Dream mused.   
  
  
-

  
  


A long, painful groan left between Technoblade lips as soon as he shut the heavy door. Through the window, he watched as his brother and his partner started their journey once more into the cold, but much calmer, storm.

The man brought his calloused hands up to his head as his back leaned against the wall. Closing his eyes, his fingers combed through his thin, pink hair. The man tugged out the overused ponytail holder, letting the long strands fall loosely around his shoulders as he drew in a deep breath.  
“You can come out.” Technoblade called out, opening his eyes tiredly as he gazed into the ceiling.   
  
There was a series of faint thumps and walks from the upstairs before a door creaked open. The sound of feet descending quickly down the stairs echoed within the cabin before the young, energetic brother poked his head around the corner, a spirited feeling filling the room as he watched his older brother.   
“So? How’d it go?” Tommy questioned, his big blue eyes watching the man with curiosity, “I couldn’t hear much from up there.”   
  
Technoblade’s eyes flickered down to meet the short teen’s, and his chapped lips broke into a small, relaxed smile.   
“Went fine.” He replied simply, returning his posture to a relaxed stand as he slipped his hands into his pockets. The man walked slowly over to the younger teen, roughly ruffling his hair, earning mixed sounds of pained complaints.

  
“You should really start throwing your trash out, though. I think George got suspicious of your soda can.”  
  



End file.
